The Yard Sale

A good part of my week was spent cleaning and organizing closets, cabinets and our 100 degree, hotter-than-Hades attic.

I have priced a zillion items, many of which I had no idea we even owned, made gaudy neon signs and sorted and stacked everything I plan to sell in one big Yard Sale Mountain in our dining room.

But the moment that the last item made its way to the peak of Yard Sale mountain, the moment I thought I would step back and feel a surge of accomplishment, success and excitement, I stepped back and felt a wave of nausea.

I looked around at the baby swings, the bassinet, stroller, blankies, and teeny, tiny clothes that somehow survived two infant boys, and it really sank in.

In my hurried mission of sorting, organizing and pricing I had not forced myself to truly come to grips with what this really was.

This was not just a yard sale, this was our “We’re not having any more babies, so get this stuff out of our house” yard sale. And even though my husband and I made the decision together, well it still sort of made me sad.

Not sad because I would miss the nausea, heartburn, swelling and indigestion that come along with pregnancy, the c-section surgery recovery following delivery or the pure Mombie exhaustion that plagues us all those first few months.

But sad because there would no more sweet newborn baby smell to inhale, no more quiet nights rocking to lullabies, no more first year milestones to celebrate.

This was it.

As I scanned the room, every single item on Yard Sale Mountain brought back a million memories of each of our boys during that first year when they were so small and fragile.

First baths, rolling over, first solids, first smiles, first birthdays - they all played back like snippets from an old family video on VHS.

Is it enough to make me want to keep all of this stuff? Nope. Nope. Nope.

But it did my soul good to take a break from the busy routine of every day life and truly appreciate those early memories with my babies.

Maybe the best part of selling it, is knowing that it will all be a part of someone else’s memories too.

So please, if you’re having a baby, know someone who has a baby, like babies or have ever even seen a baby - follow the gaudy, neon yellow signs and come buy our stuff.